No Song to Sing

In a holler way back in Virginia
I heard a voice calling my name
I followed that sound through that old sacred ground
Was the first time I had sad old Jane
Was the first time I had sad old Jane

It felt like the back porch of heaven
Where the angels would gather to sing
There were banjos and fiddles and a man in the middle
There was fire coming out of those strings
He could sure make that old guitar ring

If not for the bluegrass way back in these hills
If not for those high lonesome strings
I'd have no love to call my own
I'd have no song to sing
I'd have no song to sing

So many old country stages
So many good friends I have made
With some help from the Lord
I might peg some more
With this worn out old guitar I play
With this worn out old guitar I play

If not for the bluegrass way back in these hills
If not for those high lonesome strings
I'd have no love to call my own
I'd have no song to sing
I'd have no song to sing



Credits
Writer(s): Dan Tyminski, Monty Russ Criswell
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

Link